


The Greatest Fan

by Mild Mannered Nath (Nathreee)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dominatrix, F/M, Femdom, Hypnotism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24679693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathreee/pseuds/Mild%20Mannered%20Nath
Summary: This is a story about a man visiting a pro-domme to play out one of his greatest fantasies. My apologies to Henry Cavill, who did not ask for this.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn't a particularly unusual request, Octavia mused as she read over the online negotiations again. She was actually very glad that he had found her; she would be respectful of his fantasy roleplay, help him make it come alive. Fuck, it was a really hot scenario and she would just enjoy it along with him. She sighed, happy that she could use her time and skills to help others live out their fantasies like this.

His fantasy was about a video game: the Witcher. There were books about the same characters and the same setting, but Octavia had never read them. She had seen the game and tried it, but it was not to her taste. She had however watched the recent Netflix series. Still, she was confident she could help him feel like he was Geralt of Rivia, captured by a sorceress and being "tortured" in a sexy way that stayed within his limits.

What was funny about all of this, was that he signed his messages with the name Henry. That's the name of the actor who played Geralt in the Netflix series. Octavia had seen an interview with him before the series came out, in which the actor confessed that he applied for the role because he was a fan of the games and the books. This client was clearly also a big fan if he chose that name.

For a moment, she looked around her little studio. The bed was neatly made, the chains and cuffs were ready, and she had the little stepladder so she could actually reach the ceiling hook. She was wearing a long gown that wouldn't look wrong on a sorceress from the tv show and the room was comfortably warm. She put the laptop away and put the kettle on, because he should be here soon.

The knock on the door came just a minute early, which made sense. He was very eager in his messages as well. 

"Come in," Octavia called out from the corner of the studio. "Would you like tea or coffee?" She could hear the door opening and the man coming in behind her as she made a cup of coffee for herself. There was a moment of silence and then the rustle of him hanging his coat on the rack beside the door.

"You can lock the door with the knob, so we won't be disturbed." Octavia said as she turned to face him, with her cup of coffee in her hand. The tall, dark-haired man who reached out and locked the door was in fact Henry Cavill, the square jaw was unmistakable. Octavia's breath hitched for a second, but she quickly composed herself. She had promised absolute discretion, as she always did to her clients. "Coffee?" She asked as casually as she possibly could.

"Yes, thank you." He smiled.

She motioned to the chairs by the coffee table and made him a cup, taking the time to calm the beating of her heart. It's funny how actors always excite us, she thought to herself. His messages had clearly shown her that he was a human being and a geek, just like she was.

When she brought the cups of coffee to the table, he lingered by the seat, waiting until she put the cups down. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Henry." He cordially shook her hand.

"I know..." She momentarily let her eyes roam over his massive shoulders and his bulky arms. Then she sat down and sipped her coffee. "I'm Octavia. Please, make yourself comfortable. I mean, before we make you uncomfortable, like we discussed." She chuckled.

He laughed and shifted awkwardly in the seat. "I'm a little nervous. I've never actually done this before."

She dismissively waved her hand at him. "I'm sure you've done scarier things in your life. This doesn't involve helicopters, at least."

He laughed heartily. "This is a different kind of scary."

"It is, I get that." She nodded. "I'll walk you through what is going to happen."

He picked up his cup and seemed to relax a bit.

"First, you and I are just going to sit here and go over some things, just rehashing what we've been messaging about." She explained quietly. "Then, I would like to hypnotise you, to see how that feels for you, and as preparation for the actual scenario. After that, you can undress and go to the toilet or whatever else you need before we begin."

Sipping thoughtfully, he asked: "What do we need to go over?"

"Let me just summarise." Octavia closed her eyes, to help her remember. "You will be playing Geralt of Rivia, and I will be an unknown sorceress who has used a ruse to capture you. We'll put you in reasonably comfortable chains and I will 'torture' you with sexual touches and with a magical spell that will make you faint. I'll do my best to keep the dialogue in character, but I'm afraid you know much more about the setting than I do, so let's try to focus on what you and I are doing together, not on the story of the Witcher. I will grope you through your clothes, but I will not remove any clothes, that is your choice. Anything you're still wearing when we begin, stays on. I will not slap, hit, pinch or bite you, but kissing, grabbing and some shoving is allowed. And mind games, you specifically asked for this because you wanted to play a strong-willed character who is forced to surrender. The scenario ends when you submit, which you will endeavour to communicate clearly. Is that correct?"

Henry blushed. "Yes. That's what I want."

Without remarking upon his apparent embarrassment, Octavia continued: "Because Geralt is likely to struggle and ask me to stop, and I will want to continue, I need you to pick a special word that will signify that Henry needs me to stop roleplaying for a moment. You can use this for example when the bondage or something I said is making you uncomfortable. When you say this word, I'll stop and ask what you need. It's best to pick a word that doesn't belong in the Witcher world, but that you have no trouble saying. What is your safeword?"

For a moment, he thought about it and then grinned. "Superman."

"I like your sense of humour." Octavia chuckled.

He set the coffee cup down on the table. "So now, you hypnotise me? To make the 'Faint' spell work and to help me get into character?"

She beamed at him. "Your enthusiasm is wonderful. Do you have any questions or remarks so far?"

He shook his head. "You addressed them in writing. I'm very curious to try this." He gave her an expectant look, as if he was waiting for her to reveal a pocketwatch and swing it in front of his eyes.

Octavia briefly considered standing over him and asking him to look deep into her eyes. But there would be time for that. And this new plan forming in her mind would be far more effective. "Please sit back in the chair and close your eyes," she said.

He folded his hands in his lap as he did so.

She allowed herself to stare at this man's beautiful face as she spoke softly. "I would like you to imagine that you're in the makeup chair, preparing for a role. We both know which role, although you don't have any lines to learn now. You'll have to improvise and go by what you know of the character. I just figured that being in the makeup chair, sitting passively while someone else does things to your head, is probably a familiar feeling to you."

She got up and softly touched his face and massaged his head in admiration. "It's so easy to allow your thoughts to drift, thinking about how to act like Geralt, how to sound like Geralt, while someone else is busy preparing you for the scene to come. There is nothing else you need to do right now, but sit here and let me work my magic on you. It's relaxing really, to know that you're in good hands and that everything is going according to plan."

His shoulders started to sag, and his head swayed in her hands. A soft sigh escaped his lips as his hands unclasped and fell to his sides.

"Your sinking deeper into hypnosis is also exactly according to plan. Your passive, open state of mind is precisely what we need right now. You can just let every word I say guide you deeper into this relaxing space, so that I can prepare you for the scene." She allowed a moment of silence while she continued to caress his temples and his hair.

His breathing was visibly slowing and his face was relaxing, his jaw becoming slack. As she observed how he was slumping in the chair, she noticed a bulge growing in the crotch of his trousers.

Pleased, she continued in a dreamy tone: "There is one very important thing I want you to know, Henry. In this space we're creating here together, during this scene we'll be playing together, your arousal is wanted. It's the very purpose of what we're doing here, and that knowledge is liberating, isn't it? Isn't it easy to allow yourself to feel how my every touch excites you? Your body expresses your sexual feelings so much more naturally now that you know that your lust is welcome in this space."

There was a quick flutter in his eyelids as his legs shifted in the chair to make his erection more comfortable.

She carefully let go of his head, letting his chin sag down against his chest, and she sat back down in her own chair. "In this scene, the sorceress is going to torture Geralt with sexual pleasure, so your arousal and your expression of it, is instrumental to the dramatic tension."

He bucked his hips in the chair and Octavia had to catch her breath as she saw the bulge jerk under the fabric of his trousers.

"The other thing instrumental to this scene," Octavia continued quickly. "Is the sorceress' magical spell. Throughout the scene, whenever you hear me say the word 'Faint' you instantly feel its effects. It starts in your body. Your muscles become weak and your legs falter, when I say the word 'Faint'. It's as if your body suddenly becomes too heavy for you to hold upright. And whenever I say the word 'Faint' you also feel this dizzy sensation in your head."

She could notice minute quivers and twitches across his body every time she repeated the word. "Whenever you hear me say 'Faint', you momentarily feel as if you're actually going to faint. You lose track of what you're saying because your head feels all fuzzy and faint. But the thing is, the spell only lasts for a few seconds, and then you're able to shake off the effects. So whatever you're feeling now when I say the word 'Faint', you're going to have to squeeze all of that into just a short time period, and that just intensifies the effects of the 'Faint' spell, doesn't it? Why don't you take a deep breath and process all of that?" 

For a moment, she just watched the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders. Then she changed the tone of her voice to make it more upbeat. "And I think we're done with your head. Now is the time to come out of the makeup chair, get up, put on the costume and do the actual scene. Take your time to come all the way up and out of the chair. I'll be here when you're ready to move on to the next part." And she leaned forward in her seat, waiting expectantly.

His hands moved first, tired of limply hanging by his sides, fingers twitching and then quickly going up to rub his face. He let out an audible sigh and then stretched and shifted in the seat. "That was…" He licked his lips. "That was something." Then he finally looked at her.

She smiled, almost closing her eyes. "You're very good at this hypnosis thing."

He shook his head. "That's my line. Yours is: Thank you, you're welcome."

"Cheeky…" She giggled. "I can tell you have no experience being dominated."

He laughed and gulped down the coffee left in his cup.

As soon he put the cup down again, Octavia gave him a sly look. "I'm going to have to test it, of course."

A frown. "Test what?"

She raised her hand in the air, the open palm towards him, as if casting a magical spell on him. "Faint!" She commanded.

His eyes slammed shut and his head tipped over backwards as his arms dropped down and his shoulders drooped. He sagged in the chair only for a few seconds, and then he came to his senses. 

Octavia waited with baited breath to hear what he might say.

Henry coughed as he composed himself. "Rather amazing, that…" he mumbled as he sat up and rolled his shoulders.

She chuckled. "That's your mind at work, I just say a silly word."

"Don't say it again until we start." He pointed at her.

She held up her hands in the air. "Of course." Then she gave him a more serious look. "Does it need to be adjusted? Is it too much? We can tone it down, if you prefer."

He massaged his forehead for a moment, hiding his face behind his hand. "No, it's perfect. Thank you." He took a deep breath and looked around the studio. "What's next?"

She rose from the chair. "You undress as much as you want. Then we put you in chains. And then we begin." She took the coffee cups and cleared them away.

He started to take his shoes and socks off, and then his shirt and top. Octavia leaned on the counter in the corner, watching him with a grin. He paused for a moment, looking at the bulge in his trousers. Then he turned to the bag hanging on the rack beside his coat. 

"Not very charming…" He said, only half to Octavia.

She gave him an approving smile. "I'm rather enamoured, actually."

From the bag, he pulled a pair of loose slacks that looked like they could be used for yoga or martial arts training. He quickly dropped the trousers he was wearing and pulled the slacks on, revealing his simple, black underwear only for a moment. Then he folded the clothes he was wearing and placed them on the chair.

She walked over the chains and cuffs to pick them up. "Have you ever been chained up to the ceiling before?"

"Funnily enough, no." He stepped up and held out his left arm so she could put the cuff on it.

"You might want to close the strap yourself. It's rather tough leather and I'm not actually very strong." She helped him put both cuffs on and let him close the straps. Then she climbed up on the stepladder to attach the chains to the hook in the ceiling. "The cuffs and chains and this hook are all strong enough to carry your weight, but I would advise against hanging your full weight from your wrists. You might injure your shoulders. Better keep at least one foot on the floor at all times." She came down again, put the stepladder away and looked up at his hands.

He was attaching the chains to the rings on the cuffs himself, without her help. When he was done, he gave her a goofy grin. "Was I not supposed to do that?"

Octavia sighed with a smile. "Don't worry. This is not the first time a partner has done my work for me. Your enthusiasm is very reassuring." 

"Is there some sort of signal to make it start?" He asked, as he moved his arms, just to test how much room the chains gave him.

Octavia drew up close to him and placed her hand on his crotch. "Is this still ok? Do you want to go through with this?"

The chains rattled as he started from that unexpected touch. At first, his eyes widened, but he didn't move away. Catching his breath, he replied: "Yes, I do. But thank you for checking."

She stood there, holding his gaze as she slowly stroked her hand up, over his abs and his chest to his neck, and then she cupped his jaw. Her voice dropped back into that dreamy tone. "Isn't it funny how sometimes it feels like the whole world falls away? It's like there's only you and me standing here, and nothing else. It's like your vision narrows until all you can see is my eyes. Look deep into my eyes and let it happen. Just take a deep breath and sink deeper and deeper. It's so easy, isn't it?"

His eyes glazed over and his breathing slowed, he was standing so very still as he stared at her, unblinkingly.

"It's so easy to stand here, let your legs just do that for you as your mind sinks deeper. I just need your attention for a moment, so focus on my words. Just like you did a moment ago, in the chair. It's so easy to let it all happen again. Just focus deeper and that's when you can just feel yourself… Drop." She moved her hand to the back of his neck and tipped his head forward.

His eyes closed and he swayed ever so slightly as he listened to her.

"When you wake up in a moment, we'll start. While we're both playing our roles, you'll always remember underneath that you can say the word 'Superman' to make it all stop, should you need it. But when you wake up, you're Geralt of Rivia, and I'm a sorceress you don't know. You've been looking for Yennefer, she sent you a letter telling you to meet her here in these ruins, but something knocked you out, you can't really remember what, and in a moment, you'll wake up. There are still some lingering magical effects of whatever knocked you out, because you are aroused, and my every touch only turns you on more. But you are chained up. The chains cannot be opened or broken, there is no way for you to free yourself. Your only hope is to convince me to free you somehow. Perhaps there is something I want?" She stroked down over his chest for a moment and then stepped away, letting him stand there on his own.

"Allow your thoughts to drift for a while, gather up the things you need to be Geralt, his voice, his mannerisms, the way he thinks. Take your time, actually wait a little longer than you need, I also need a moment to get into character. But when you wake up, we start. It's your move." She walked over to the counter and quickly drank some water. In her mind, she went over what she could say or do that would draw the scene back to this room with the chains, so that the roleplay wouldn't get bogged down by her lack of knowledge of the setting of the Witcher. She leaned on the counter, her back turned to him, thinking. Until she heard the chains rattle as he moved.

"Ah, you're awake. Good." She said in her best evil villain voice as she walked over to him.

His eyes looked different now, there was an intense look in them. And his voice was much deeper and darker than before. "You didn't kill me."

"Of course not, Geralt." She laughed. "You are worth so much more alive." She drew up close to him and laid her hand on his chest as she looked up at him. She enjoyed touching him, she could feel the tension in his muscles and the perspiration on his skin.

He didn't back away, he just stared at her. "You have me at a disadvantage. I don't know your name."

With an irreverent smirk, she said: "You will address me as Milady."

He rolled his eyes and looked away. "If you know who I am, you also know I'm not one for etiquette."

She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "You will address me as Milady, and you will beg." When he opened his mouth to speak, she rubbed her leg against his crotch.

His eyes closed and he stuttered, unable to form words. His face reddening, he stepped away from her, and as he did, the chains pulled his arms up.

She followed, staying close, and ran both her hands over his skin. Soft, light touches in sensitive places on his sides and abdomen. 

It made him shudder. He tried to turn, but looking up, he realised it would tangle the chains, and pull his arms up even further. He took a deep breath, undergoing her touches for a moment, tensing up. Then he used his leg and shoulder to push her away.

About five feet away from him, she composed herself, and licked her lips to show how much she had enjoyed that instant of violence. "You think you're stronger than me, Witcher? You still don't realise how helpless you are." She raised her arm, her open palm towards his chest. "Faint!"

The chains rattled as his knees buckled. His eyes widened, crossed and then closed as his head lolled on his shoulders. He recovered quickly however, standing there, leaning to one side so he could wipe the sweat off his forehead with his hand. The bulge in his slacks moved and strained against the fabric.

She gave him an amused grin, showing off her teeth and tongue. "Surrender to me, you know you want to."

He rolled his shoulders and huffed to her: "What I want is…"

"Faint." She interrupted him, moving in closer so her hand touched his chest.

He shook under her touch and his legs faltered. His eyes rolled up and his head toppled backwards. His cock squirmed visibly and his hips bucked.

She embraced him and held him close as he blinked and breathed heavily, and she rubbed her hip against his crotch.

Without opening his eyes, he asked in a hoarse voice: "What do you want?"

She dug her fingers into the skin of his back as she pressed her chest against his. Her breath on his skin gave him goosebumps as she whispered: "I want you to feel. Feel how much you desire me. Feel that desire growing inside you, writhing like an animal in heat. You are helpless to stop it. You are helpless against my power. And you will beg me for release."

His lips quivered for a moment, then he opened his eyes and gave her a defiant look. His voice was flat and emotionless as he said: "Please, Milady. Release me."

"Did you think it would be that easy?" She clenched one arm around him as her other hand travelled up to the back of his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. She balled her hand to a fist, grabbing him by the hair, and she could feel his neck muscles stiffen in response. With him struggling like that, she couldn't pull him in for a kiss on the lips, so she planted a long, wet kiss on his neck instead. 

Her lips and tongue on his neck definitely moved him; he shook and struggled in her arms. Panting, he tried to move his head, but his hair was just long enough for her to get a good grip. He was however still noticeably stronger than she was, and he managed to straighten up and steady himself.

With her lips brushing his neck, she whispered: "Doesn't my kiss make you feel… Faint?"

It was as if he melted in her arms, his body slumped against her as his knees bent. She followed through by pulling him in closer, and kissing him on the mouth, her tongue penetrating his lips. She caressed and massaged the back of his head with her hand as she leaned back to let his limp body rest against her. When the kiss finally ended, she rested his head on her shoulder.

He groaned as his feet moved to find sure footing before he steadied himself again. When he looked at her, his eyes still had this intensity, but something about it had changed. There was something in the way his mouth was still open and his breath was still ragged, a yearning. "I beg you…" His voice was so low that it died away.

"That's better than your first try, at least." She smiled and let go of him, backing away to get a better look at him.

He shifted on his feet and moved his hips, but his cock remained prominently visible in the slacks. The chains rattled as he rolled and stretched the muscles in his shoulders and neck, trying to make himself more comfortable.

She crossed her arms and stared at him, just out of reach. Behind her fierce eyes, her mind raced to formulate a hypnotic monologue. She spoke slowly, paying attention to her enunciation. "Isn't it funny how a moment of reprieve doesn't actually calm that animalistic lust roiling inside you? Now that you've tasted submission in my arms, even for an instant, you hunger for it even more. It's stronger than you, you can't control it. You want to surrender to me. You need it. You crave it. Feel that."

A grunt. He shook his head, making the chains rattle more, as if he was trying to shake off the effects of her magic. The look in his eyes softened, as if he was confused by how much her words affected him, as if the struggle was becoming more internal. His chest rose and fell noticeably with each ragged breath, but he chose not to speak.

"You can feel that, can't you?" She said, nodding at him. Then, wondering if it would even work, she raised her hand into that same magic spell gesture again, but this time, she aimed it at his crotch. 

His eyes followed her hand with obvious anticipation. 

She cupped her hand, as if to grab his cock. "Can you also feel this?" And she squeezed her empty hand, about three feet away from his crotch.

A sharp intake of breath. His eyes widened and he shuddered.

She grinned widely. "You want me. You yearn to be under my control."

He lowered his eyes and turned away in the chains. "Please, Milady." His voice was breathy and gravelly. "I beg you to stop."

She moved in closer and placed her hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "Why would I stop now?" Her other hand fondled the bulge in his crotch.

He shuddered, his breath quivering. His eyes didn't seem to see her, something was going on behind them.

She reached up to grab his hair again, and was surprised to find that his head followed every nudge she gave it this time. As she turned his head so she could hold his gaze, his hips bucked and his cock jerked against her other hand.

He gasped. "Release me, I beg you."

Her hand holding his hair, she shook his head. "Oh no no no no…" With a cruel grin, she let go of him and backed away. 

The chains rattled as he tried to follow, his arms flailing after her. His eyes were hollow and full of longing now. "Please?"

"No." She crossed her arms. "That is not how this works, Geralt. I can't just make it stop. The spell has been cast and that desire inside you will keep growing until it reaches its culmination. You will submit to me. Neither you nor I can stop it now." She reached up with one hand to touch her own lips, taunting him.

He stuttered and groaned, returning to the place where the chains were the most comfortable. His chest swelled with each gasp and his muscles twitched under his skin. He gave her a desperate look.

"Are you trying to speak? Is something wrong?" She laughed. As he opened his mouth to reply, she raised her hand once more. "Faint!"

His eyes rolled up before they slammed shut. He swayed on his feet and almost fell forward. Then he blinked heavily and caught himself. His fingers grasped the chains and he pulled himself up to a standing position again. With his eyes still closed, and his voice all throaty, somewhere between Henry's and Geralt's, he uttered: "Please take me, Milady. I beg you. I am yours."

Octavia quickly moved in and reached up to unhook the cuffs from the chains. He immediately dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her legs, burying his face in her skirt. She caressed his hair, thinking feverishly about what he might need now. 

She cooed softly. "Hush now, Geralt. You are mine. Your body is mine and your mind is mine. No more thoughts. No more desire. No more will. Nothing. Only the relief of surrender."

His arms slumped down to his sides and his chin fell to his chest.

She looked at the bed and then back at the huge man kneeling at her feet. She laid a hand on his arm and spoke in a reassuring tone: "Now, you take my hand and stand up. I'm going to guide you to the bed where you'll lie down. It's so easy to do exactly as I say, Isn't it?"

With his eyes closed, he took her hand and rose to his feet. He blindly followed her to the bed, and let go of her hand as he laid down on his side.

She patted him gently on the shoulder. "Take a rest here now, Henry. You can lie here as long as you need. I'll just get you a glass of water, but I'll be nearby the whole time."

No other reaction came from Henry except for his quiet breathing.

Octavia walked over to the counter and poured two glasses of water. She walked back and set one of them down on the bedside table. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed, beside his legs. She sat there for a moment, nursing the glass of water, looking around the silent room. Another happy customer, she thought to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'll be honest with you, Henry, I didn't think I'd be seeing you here again." Octavia set down two cups of coffee on the little table in her studio. She was wearing a striped, form-fitting dress over some dark leggings this time.

He gave her a confused look as he sat down, and asked: "You don't get many return customers?"

"I do, actually. My return customers are my livelihood." Octavia smiled and blushed. "But I've never had a request like this before."

He drank from the coffee and then put the cup back down. "Well, I consult with martial artists, acting teachers and choreographers for my roles. I would like to consult you on this role."

"I'm flattered and intrigued." Octavia leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee. "What are you interested in learning or training?"

Henry leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "So this role, it's a fantasy show, so it's not about the believable portrayal of hypnotism, per se. But the character has been mind controlled. And there are moments throughout the show where he falls back into that trance. I want to give a genuine reaction, not the cartoonesque portrayal of mind control one usually sees in fantasy."

Octavia giggled. "Some people are into that…"

"No doubt, and I mean no disrespect to them." He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "I just feel that wouldn't fit with the spirit of the show. I want to deal with some of the more serious aspects of it, relapsing against my own better judgement, shame, the addictive aspects of it."

Octavia gasped. "I didn't know you were so method. How seriously do you want to pursue this? Several sessions of consulting?"

He reached for the coffee and drank from it, thinking. "If you were a martial artist helping me prepare for a fight scene, we'd spend at least ten hours on it, practicing technique until I got it right."

"But this is not one scene." She studied his face and his body language. "You're talking about shame and addiction, those are long-term effects. How do you envision practicing this? Safely?"

He gave her a serious look. "Well, I came to ask your expert opinion. How would you go about giving me a taste of these experiences?"

"Many things are possible." She put her empty cup down on the table. "With hypnosis and dominance, I could give you a glimpse of dependency. But I am not willing to take the risk of creating any effects that would last longer than a few days."

He nodded. "I'm trusting your judgement. A glimpse is fine."

"First things first." She gave him another keen look. "The mind control. What should it be like? Is your mind controller seductive or forceful? Is it insidious? I'm assuming she's a woman. Does she use him and discard him, or is there tenderness?"

"In the beginning it's forceful, as if she drugs him. She does use him, but she becomes attached and that's when the tenderness comes in. When he tells her he feels used, they fight." His eyes stared off into space, thinking about the script, no doubt. "They have a problematic relationship."

Octavia folded her hands in front of her mouth, thinking. "We can use this session to explore what the mind control feels like, plant the seeds for the next session when we'll explore the relapses. How does that sound?"

Henry smiled widely. "Thank you, Octavia. I know this is an unusual request."

"Don't thank me yet," she said quickly. "Tell me about the quality of the trance. You said it was like a drug. Do you faint? Do you become a mindless, obedient drone? Or is it more like the adoration of falling in love? Is there memory loss? Do you want to experience that?"

"Yes." He blushed, looking for the right words. "I mean, can we touch on all of that? So that I can feel what it's like?"

With a slight nod, she muttered: "Could be a long session…"

"I can afford your rates. Or did you have other appointments planned?"

She stretched and straightened up in the chair. "No, but we might have to call for food delivery…"

He chuckled, lowering his eyes.

"You're giddy," she said with a cheeky smile.

He nodded. "I am. This is exciting."

"Have you finished your coffee? Do you want to change into something more comfortable before we try a thing?"

"I'll do that." Henry got up to take his shirt off and change into his slacks. 

Octavia watched him, she didn't often get the chance to work with such a beautiful, bulky man. 

When he noticed that she was looking at him, he paused to give her a sideways glance. "Enjoying the show?"

She grinned wickedly. "This is not a chore. I like a bit of role reversal."

He chuckled again as he continued changing. "Are there men who come here to watch you undress?"

For a moment, she shifted in the chair, thinking about whether to tell him any anecdotes, and how to phrase them to respect her other clients' privacy. Then she said: "Do you know that scene from True Lies?" She laughed.

"I love that movie!" He laughed awkwardly and stood there, barefoot, wearing only his slacks. "So… Now what?"

"Well, if you're consulting with me, we could do a warmup exercise, right?" She got up and stretched a bit.

Henry smiled. "Yes. Good."

"Is my carpet comfortable enough for you?" She looked at the floor.

For a moment, he blinked at her. "I've fallen and wrestled on much rougher surfaces. But are you expecting us to get down on the floor?"

"I'm expecting to drop you." She grinned. "That's hypnotist jargon."

With a deep breath, he looked at her expectantly. "I'm ready for you."

She stood across from him in the open space and held up her hands, palms open and towards him. "Press your hands against mine and try to provide the right amount of counterpressure. This is an exercise in balance, in feeling what I'm doing and matching it."

Henry stepped up and placed his palms against hers. Their hands started to tremble from the pressure, with an occasional shaky jerk forward or backwards.

"You are stronger than me, so you have to regulate it. Feel for what I'm doing." She stared at him with a grin. Their hands almost stayed motionless for a moment, and then she stopped pressing forward for a second, and he stumbled towards her.

"You can feel that coming, if you focus. Let's try again."

As they got back into position, he muttered. "I had not expected this kind of exercise."

"Oh good." She let him find the balance and after a while, she very slowly started to move away from him. He stepped in and followed, their hands still touching in the same way.

"Well done," she said, and started in the other direction, forcing him backwards. He got the hang of it quickly, and they moved back and forth a few times.

"This is like dancing," he mumbled as he looked into her eyes.

She sighed dramatically at him. "Don't tell me you are good at that too. Are you Superman or something?"

He laughed and lost his balance for a second.

She waited for him to start again. "Is that where you learned to look into your partner's eyes like that? It's good for this exercise, keep doing it."

They went silent as they moved back and forth, and Octavia fixated him with her piercing hypnotist stare. They moved across the open space, their hands touching, in tune with each other. Slowly, she guided him to a halt in the middle of the space, as she noticed that his eyes had stopped blinking. She inclined her head to one side and varied the pressure of their hands a little, to check his responses. He matched her movements perfectly, completely focused on the exercise.

She dropped her hands and quickly stepped aside. As he stumbled forward, she grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him to the floor. "Very good. Just fall. Let me guide you to where you need to be. Just drop. Down."

As he collapsed on the floor, she kneeled down beside him and stroked his hair. "Savour that falling sensation, I'm here with you, to guide you into trance. Focus on what you're feeling. The laserfocus in your mind. The limp heaviness in your body. It's easy to follow my guidance. Just drift here for me for a second." 

She noticed that her inadvertent stroking had moved from his hair to his forehead. Every time she stroked from his nose up to his hairline, his eyelids fluttered. So she slowly continued doing that. "I want to lay some groundwork now. So pay attention to this touch. Wallow in this feeling. I want you to be able to remember this vividly later. Because even after you wake up in a moment, whenever I touch you like this, you will find yourself dropping, falling, drifting, just like this. You're doing so well."

She stopped stroking him and he exhaled and slumped a little. Then she patted him on the shoulder. "Take a deep breath. Notice how you're lying here on the floor. Feel the texture of the carpet against your skin. Notice the light on the other side of your eyelids. Take a deep breath in and wake up."

His mouth opened and he licked his lips. Embarrassed, he kept his eyes closed as he sat up. He took a moment to rub his face and then asked: "So, that was the point of the exercise?"

"To drop you, yes. I said so from the beginning." She grinned at him.

"Is that a technical term?" He mumbled and ran a hand through his hair.

Octavia rose from the floor and went over to the corner. "Do you want a drink of water?"

"Yes, let's." He got up and did a few stretches.

As she handed him a glass of water, she looked up at him. "So, do you remember the whole thing?"

He paused with a frown. "Yes… Why do you ask?"

"Spontaneous amnesia is rare, but I always check." She gulped her water down and put the glass on the table.

"What's next?" He asked before following her example.

Octavia stroked her chin, thinking. "I can now show you some aspects of being under my control. You were wondering about a feeling like being drugged?"

"Does this exercise involve dropping me again?" He asked, glancing at the carpet.

"They all do. That's why you came to me, Henry." She chuckled. "You want to be dropped."

He blushed and lowered his eyes. "I guess so." He stepped into the open space, his knees loose, his hands open and by his sides. "I'm ready for you."

Octavia grinned at him and laid one hand casually on his shoulder and she started to pace in a circle around him. "That is the problem, of course." Her tone of voice was slow and melodious. "You are prepared for something to happen. The actor is prepared for the scene. But we must remember that the character does not see this coming. I want you to imagine the scene in your head. What is your character doing? What is your adversary doing? How is the drug administered? Can you see it coming at all?"

She watched him like a hawk, noticing the minute changes in his face and body language. His eyes moved, became distant, imagining the scene. His body settled in this position, relaxed by her slow footsteps around him, by the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder. 

"Is there a sensation that creeps up on you? A sound or a smell? Perhaps you don't even know what it means at the time. The actor may know that it's the drug, but you don't realise it yet. It just seems odd, you wonder what it might be. Then you start to notice stronger sensations in your body. You become dizzy, lightheaded. And then…" 

She reached up to touch his forehead, stroking upwards. His eyes tried to follow the feeling, rolling up into his head. When his eyes slammed shut, his knees went weak. She caught him and guided him to the floor again.

"It overwhelms you. Being drugged is such an overpowering sensation because it's a chemical reaction happening in your body, and no amount of willpower can slow it down or stop it. You are helpless against it, you have lost control of your body. It takes you over and you have to just ride it out." 

With a self-satisfied smile, she observed the limp heap of a man on the floor, and she shifted his position, to make him more comfortable. She sat down beside his head and absentmindedly stroked his hair as she wove the suggestions into the feelings he told her he was looking for.

"Now, I don't know how you might be feeling right now, how many thoughts there are still going on in your head. I imagine that Henry the actor is a little excited by everything that's happening, and I think you'll find it's easy for Henry to take note of all of these things and remember them for later use. But your character… You must be feeling so helpless right now. Drugged, overpowered and helpless. I wonder if you're even capable of coherent thought right now. Is the drugged haze in your mind so thick that you can't even form words?"

He stirred under her hand. His lips moved and a drip of drool ran out. 

"The thing is, when you're mind-controlled, you don't need to form words." She paused, noticing that her hand strayed to stroking the toned muscles of his chest. She knew she mustn't let any of this become too sexual, so she reigned her touches back in. "Your mind is too muddled to reason, as if you have no will of your own. And the most powerful feeling in your drugged head right now is this calm, this serenity. You feel so submissive. You may not be able to think, but you don't need to. You do as you're told, and that is exactly as it should be. You have no choice, it happens automatically. As you drift in this mindless haze, your body recovers and regains its strength, your senses wake up. Completely mind-controlled. Ready to obey."

She got up from the floor and sat down on the tip of a chair, watching him. Giddy with excitement, she said in a clear voice: "Get up."

A series of twitches in his arms and legs. And then, mechanically and haltingly, he sat up and rose to his feet. His eyes were open, but his head didn't move, as if he hardly saw anything. When he was on his feet, he turned towards her and waited there.

With her chin in her hand, Octavia commanded. "Come closer and look at me."

He took two lumbering steps towards her, and his head moved. His eyes were hollow and started straight through her. His lips parted and a sigh came out.

She shuddered with arousal. Unable to control herself any longer, she got up and embraced him, her fingers digging into his beautiful shoulders, pressing her body against his motionless mass. With her lips brushing the skin of his cheek, she whispered. "I want you to realise how helpless you are right now. I could make you do anything right now. I could do anything to you." One hand crept down over his slacks to grab his buttock as she pressed her hip against his crotch.

Another exhale escaped his lips but he didn't move. He couldn't.

Her voice raw and low, she continued: "Picture in your mind now, the things I would make you do. And how you would feel while mindlessly carrying out those orders. Unable to stop your body from complying. Perhaps you're even feeling happy and free on the inside. You have no control, no responsibility. You only obey. That is your sole purpose. To do as I say." She kissed him, and grabbed him by the hair.

His mouth opened, his neck moved to accommodate her, but no other reaction. Well, nothing else besides the erection growing in his slacks. When she ended the kiss, she slowly stepped away from him. She had to focus, he was putting such trust in her. Sitting back down, she looked at his vacant eyes.

"Take two steps backwards," she ordered him. 

The mechanical quality of his movements still excited her. She stared at this beautiful private show, feeling so blessed that such a skilled actor chose to be here with her like this.

"Now drop to your knees."

She wanted him to hurt himself, just a little. And she was not disappointed. The heavy thud as he sank onto the floor was almost as delicious as the blank expression on his face, completely unaware of it.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she closed her eyes and tried to relax on the chair. "Now pay attention to a new sensation that is starting, growing on you. It's wearing off. The haze is slowly clearing up. Pay attention to your body as you're regaining control. Let the realisation of how helpless you were just now, sink in as it wears off. You are left with the lingering memories of what has happened, what I have done to you, and what I could have done. As you wake, you start to understand the extent of my power over you." She folded her hands and stared at him, observing every little movement and reaction.

It started with heavy blinking, and then his hands clutched his face. A groan, and he hung his head. He leaned forward on his hands, to move his weight off his sore knees. Then he shifted to a sitting position and rubbed his face again. One of his legs moved, trying to mask the erection in his pants. He stammered and shook his head, but no real words came out. When he hugged himself, she could finally see his face. The way he bit his lip and averted his eyes, that was unmistakably shame.

She picked up the glasses from the table and brought them to the corner to fill them, turning her back on him. "Do you like chocolate?" She asked in a light tone. As she looked into the cabinet for the brownies she had stored there this morning, she gave him some time to compose himself. When she returned to the table with two glasses of water and two brownies, he was sitting on the other chair, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Do you need a moment to process all of that?" She smiled at him.

"Yes, thanks." He stuffed the brownie into his mouth and leaned forward on his knees, staring at the floor, thinking.

Octavia sat back on the chair, waiting patiently as she ate her brownie.

Finally, he said: "It's remarkable what you can do when I gave you so little to work with. I didn't tell you anything about the script of the show."

"I don't need to know much." She reached for her water and took a sip. "Everything happens inside your mind. I just nudge you."

He shook his head. "That's not what it feels like from my perspective right now."

"I'm not good with compliments." She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "I know we've achieved what you asked, and it was teamwork."

Henry gulped down his water and stared into the glass. "That was really something. But I feel like we could do more today."

Returning her glass to the table, she took a deep breath. "We can. But I want to give you a warning first. We are going to have another session soon. Let's plan that before you leave. And there are going to be some lingering effects in that time. Like muscle aches after a workout, you may feel things during that time. Emotionally. I want you to remember that these are effects of our sessions and that it's temporary." She gave him a serious look. "That's the disclaimer. Do you accept?"

He blinked at her. "Where did the jokes go all of a sudden?"

"That was to break the ice." She held his gaze. "This is the expert you're consulting informing you of the risks."

He put the glass down thoughtfully. "Emotional after-effects."

"That's right. Think about your schedule in the coming days. Is it acceptable if you feel emotional during the next couple of days?"

He frowned at her. "You can't tell me anything more precise than 'emotional'?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to dictate or suggest what you'll be feeling. I have an idea, but we have to let it run its course naturally. Know that you can always message me during that time."

He sat up straight. "Alright, let's do this. I trust you, you've given me exactly what I asked for so far. Let's plan another session in three days."

With a nod, Octavia rose from her chair. When he moved to do the same, she raised her finger at him, and he remained seated, looking up at her. With slow steps, she walked up to him and climbed up on his lap, straddling him, all the while staring him down. His breathing quickened as he sat passively under her paralysing stare. Her hands pressed on his chest as she leaned on him.

"We spoke about the adoration of falling in love." Her voice dropped to a sultry drawl. "Adoration is a form of mind control, the way it makes you abandon all reason. It can easily grow to infatuation, the person you desire, me, occupying your thoughts at all times. That is a form of mind control. Your urge to compliment me, to worship me. You can't say no to me. Why would you want to? You desire me, you welcome my attention, in any shape or form. You'll let me do anything to you…"

She caressed up over his throat, over his chin and his lips. A sigh. His eyes grew wide and he shuddered under her touch. She caressed up over his cheek and when her touch reached his forehead, he melted. His head tipped over backwards and his arms dropped to the sides of the chair. 

"Mine." She whispered as her hand traveled down to touch his chest again. "That is all you aspire to be now. Anything for me. Anything I want. Your body, your soul, you'll give me everything. Thinking about me drives you mad with desire. My touch makes you swoon. Revel in this feeling and let it grow inside you. Let it grow into an obsession. You want to be mine." She ground down on the bulge in his crotch for emphasis.

He gasped and shook under her. 

She took a deep breath and rose from his lap. Backing away into the open space of her studio, she said to him: "Take a deep breath. Explore how this feels. What it makes you do. Just like before, Henry can sit in the back of your mind and observe and remember all of this while you are experiencing it. Get up from the chair, now."

He sat up like a coiled spring, energetic. He quickly looked around the room and locked eyes with her. Immediately, he stood up and came towards her. He would have embraced her and kissed her, had she not raised a finger at him.

"Kneel for me," she ordered.

The way he dropped to the floor was subtly different from before. Smooth, elegant movements, he was fully in control of his body this time. He reached out to take her hands, desperate to touch her somehow, and kissed them. 

She pulled her hands loose and immediately grabbed him by the throat. He swallowed and trembled under her touch, looking up at her with large eyes.

"What do you want?" She stared him down, squeezing his throat just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to choke him.

His voice was breathy and soft. "I want to be yours. I want to serve you. Do anything you want. Please. Take me."

Her heart skipped a beat. Clenching her jaw, she let go of him and backed away. He stared up at her as she did so, desire in his eyes, waiting.

"Stand up," she ordered, and he complied immediately. It gave her pause. What to do now? How would she leave a lasting impression without crossing a line?

She held out her hand. "Give me your arm."

As he rested his forearm in her hand, the inside of his wrist and elbow exposed, his eyes never stopped staring at her.

She grinned at him, showing her teeth as she lifted his arm up towards her face. She chose her words carefully, speaking softly. "You're doing this for me. This is your gift to me. Your devotion to me." She opened her mouth and bit down on the inside of his forearm as hard as she could. As he grunted, trying to reflexively recoil, she held on tight, making the deepest, nastiest bitemark she could muster. She wished she could see the pain on his face.

She let go of him and he stumbled backwards for a second, nursing his arm. 

She stroked his cheek. "Very good. Well done. Tell me something, my dear."

It was as if he stood to attention, his eyes, his shoulders, his erection, everything facing towards her.

"Would you do that again if I asked?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

Sweat glistened on his face and his chest heaved as he breathed. Without a word, he offered her his other arm, the vulnerable inside of his wrist towards her.

She bit her lip and shook her head. She needed a moment to gather herself, and all the while, he waited anxiously, his arm still out towards her. 

She embraced him and hugged him. When he gratefully returned the hug, burying his face in her neck, she reached up to touch his forehead, and whispered: "Shh. It's so easy to drop into trance whenever I touch your head like this. Shh. It's so easy to remain standing here, safely in my arms. Let everything just fall away as you drift here safely in my arms."

He sagged against her a little and then stood still, letting out a deep sigh.

Softly, she stroked his hair as she spoke to him. "I'm done playing with you for now, Henry. Why don't you take a moment to let all the effects I've had on you today just fade away. Remember that we did this so you'd know what your character would feel like when this happens to him. And that you, Henry have been observing and making notes. Everything we've done this session is in the past now, and though you remember it clearly, it no longer affects you. There may be feelings you still need to process, emotions you need to work through, and that's fine. You'll deal with that when it comes up. Now in a moment, you'll wake up. We can sit back down and talk about this, process it and make an appointment for next session. Take your time. It's easy to tell me what you need."

She held him and continued to stroke his hair until she could feel him move. Then she let go and backed away, looking at him. "You alright?"

He looked at her for a second and then examined the bitemark on the inside of his arm.

She smiled apologetically as she turned to refill their water glasses. "It will heal like any other bruise. I chose an easy to hide spot. I hope."

"It's not the first time I end up with bruises after a training session. But I don't quite get why you did it." He sat down, still staring at the bitemark, and he poked it with his finger.

With two topped up glasses of water, she returned to the table. "Tangible proof that you would do anything for me, even to your own detriment." She deliberately kept her voice flat as she said it.

He picked up the glass, but just sat in the chair, holding it for a moment. "I think I understand why you felt the need to check whether I really wanted to go through with this…" His voice died away and he stared off into the distance.

"I meant what I said," she reassured him. "You can always message me when you need me. And I will remove any lingering effects at the end of next session. But you wanted to explore this. So we're leaving it like this for now."

He smiled widely at her. "Let's plan that session."

She gave him a naughty grin. "Are you sure you're not a masochist?"


	3. Chapter 3

Octavia puttered about in her studio, wearing a violet dress with a pattern of red and blue mandalas. She surreptitiously opened the box of muffins she had bought on the way here and smelled them. They were still warm. With a smile, she closed the box and put it away. She started to make coffee.

Henry entered and immediately closed and locked the door. He didn't smile like he did the previous times, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

"Coffee?" As soon as Octavia made eye-contact, there was a visceral reaction. He stared at her and seemed to freeze in place, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

She swallowed, guilt tying her stomach into a knot. "You didn't message me," she said softly as she lowered her eyes. "I took it as a good sign."

He started to change into his training slacks. "I've had a lot of mixed feelings. I've thought about messaging you... " 

"I have just the thing." And she returned to the corner to fetch the muffins. She left the box open on the table and went to get the coffee. When she brought the coffee cups to the table, she paused, staring at the way he sat on that chair. Shirtless and notably more toned than she had ever seen him before, almost the superhero muscles from the movies. She swallowed, glad that she had her wits about her enough to not drop the coffee on the floor. She quickly set the coffee down, but he had noticed the way she looked at him.

"That's the difference a few days of hard work makes." He looked at her with big puppy eyes. "Do you like it?"

Blushing, she stared at him. "You did this for me?"

"You were staring like that the last time..." That look of longing he gave her, she had seen it before.

She shook her head and picked up her coffee cup to look at it, instead of at him. "Henry, I told you there would be after-effects. I didn't want to tell you that they'd be intense, for fear that you'd take it as a suggestion to unconsciously intensify it." She sipped her coffee. "I feel awful about putting you through that."

He leaned towards her. "In the past days I've lived in a daze. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, thought of you constantly." He took a deep breath. "Obsessed. And you call that an after-effect? It's unbelievable… You can cause this to happen? You can make someone fall in love like this?"

"I've had it happen before. Never done it on purpose before. It will pass." She avoided his eyes as she drank her coffee.

He whispered: "Maybe I don't want it to pass."

With the empty cup in her hands, staring at the dredges at the bottom, she asked: "Do you still trust me? As the expert you're consulting with?"

He nodded emphatically. "Yes. You've delivered more than I dared to hope for already."

She put her cup down and rose from the chair. Taking a deep breath, she took on a stern voice. "If you're not going to have coffee or a muffin, then we'll begin right now. What do you say?"

He sprang up from the chair.

"That's what I thought." She moved into the open space of her studio and pointed at the floor in front of her feet. 

His eyes grew large and he kneeled down in the spot she indicated, looking up at her.

"Show me the bitemark," she ordered.

He held out his arm to her, showing the multi-coloured bruise on the inside of his arm. "It's remarkable…" He muttered. "I've never cherished a bruise like this before. Like a memento of the time we spent together. The pain reminds me of your power over me. It's delicious."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is it really?" When she touched his head and he immediately gasped, trembling with anticipation. She clenched her jaw, her lips forming a thin, grim line. "What do you want?"

"I want you to drop me. Take me." His eyes were begging for it.

"You understand the craving now, the obsession. You nurtured and grew it in the past couple of days. You've seen what it made you do. Despite my warnings and precautions, against your own better judgement." She cupped his cheek in her hand as she spoke these words, and her tone softened gradually. 

Her words quenched the hope and eagerness in his eyes, as if reality slowly caught up with him. That's when she stroked upwards over his forehead, and his eyes rolled up. He sat still as a statue, the whites of his eyes showing and his lips parted.

"Against your own better judgement." She repeated. "There is a part of you that understands the ephemeral nature of these feelings you have for me. That part of you also knows how many people in your life would judge you or feel hurt if they knew that you had these feelings for me. If they knew all the foolish things you'd do for me."

She let go of his head and his chin sagged down onto his chest. She backed away, knowing that her absence in this moment would help drive her point home.

"You wanted to feel the shame. The guilt. The feeling of going against your own better judgement. I want you to sit with that for a moment. You are a fool. It's not even real love. I've used you and you allowed it. You welcomed it. You still crave it. Despite your own better judgement. Examine those feelings and when you wake up, I'll be over there, having coffee."

She took a deep breath and returned to her chair. She didn't even glance at her empty coffee cup. She watched him like a hawk, reading his body language and micro-expressions.

His lips trembled. He cringed. His hands clasped into fists and then unclasped again. He hunched forward and covered his mouth, staring at the floor. Another cringe. He started to get up, but he nursed the bruise on his arm as he did so, as if he wanted to cover it, ashamed of it. Quickly, he looked around the room, at her sitting at the table, but also at his clothes on the rack beside the door.

Octavia stood up and produced a thin blanket from a bag under the table. She folded it open and offered it to him, seeking out eye-contact. He gratefully accepted and she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and arms. Then she took him by the arm to the chair.

"Do you still want that coffee?" She asked.

Without looking at her, he answered: "This may sound like a weird request. But can you get me a whole pitcher of water?"

She dashed off to the corner to fill a pitcher for him and fetch a glass. "Something about dehydration to make the muscles look good?"

"Something like that." He huddled in the blanket and grabbed one of the muffins to take a big bite out of it.

She placed the water beside him on the table and sat back down. "You can talk about it. You can say anything here, without being judged."

He ate the muffin in silence and drank some water, slowly relaxing, even though she was watching him. He hesitated a few times before he finally started to talk, searching for words. "I've had these thoughts. I knew what a fool I was being. But somehow, that was confined to the back of my mind. My need to… be yours… was stronger than my reason."

Shaking her head, she whispered: "I made a mess of this. That will teach you to consult with me…"

"No…" He coughed, trying to clear his parched throat. He poured himself some more water and he spoke softly between sips. "When I'm training for a stunt, things like this happen. I hurt myself, because I run into the danger head first, despite the advice of the expert I hired to help me. I learn something about the danger. And we keep trying until I get the stunt right." He ran his hands over the blanket. "This is very nice. You've been amazing, all the way through these sessions."

She nodded, sitting back. "Take all the time you need. Drink some more."

"I have a question, Octavia." He poured more water into his glass. "You did something that the mind-controlling sorceress in the script does too. But you don't know the script, do you?"

"I only know what you've told me." She smiled. "What is it?"

"Why do you change from the hot, seductive way you used to get me into the devoted mindset to that cold, commanding presence? What is the motivation? What are the benefits?" He studied her face.

She folded her hands in her lap. "Both of those… roles, masks, voices, whatever you want to call it… are persuasive tools. To regulate your mood. One to make you hotter, the other to cool you down." She licked her lips, looking for the right words. "You are stronger than I, your eagerness is an energy I must try to control, or you might take over. I try to make it less romantic and less sexy by being cold. But it's not just for you, I am also regulating my own feelings."

"That's helpful to understand her role. Thank you." After a moment of silence, he looked at her again. He seemed much more himself now. "You're regulating your feelings? Will you tell me about that?"

Smiling at him, her eyes almost closed. "I am a dominatrix and I enjoy my work, Henry. I derive a certain amount of pleasure from consensually hurting someone. And your gorgeous body does give me feelings. So yes, I'm regulating my feelings. You are not one of my regular clients, we are not doing this for pleasure. This is training for your role."

Henry nodded slowly, drinking some more. Being reminded why he was here seemed to help him focus. He turned towards her and said: "We're not done yet. Are you willing to show me more?"

She broke into a smile. "At some point, you and I need to have a talk about your masochism. But yes, I think I can show you more. Stuff that's relevant to your role even. When you're ready to continue."

He took another sip of water and then put the glass down. "What's next?"

"Relapse," she said, observing his reaction.

He gave her an alarmed look.

"Say your character has recovered from being mind controlled." She said as she stared off in the distance, goading him to do the same. "Say you're going about your life as usual again. Sometimes, in quiet moments you think back and remember and it gives you feelings. But mostly, you tell no one, and it's almost as if it never happened. Until you're confronted with her again. Then what happens?"

Letting the blanket slide off his shoulders, he leaned forward in the chair, a thinking pose. Octavia rose to her feet and slowly walked into the open space, staring at the wall so that he could see her profile.

"And then, she appears, unexpectedly." She let her voice soften into that dreamy tone as she narrated the scene. "And memories start to drift to the surface, don't they? You thought you were past that. You thought your adoration was a thing of the past. But those feelings come surging back to you. Is the longing you feel now even stronger than it was before? How long have you been longing for me? Were those feelings ever truly gone?"

As she slowly turned towards him and their eyes met, he seemed to be frozen in place. His eyes large and his jaw sagging open. His chest rising and falling dramatically with each breath. She made a gentle beckoning gesture with her hand and nodded at him. He stood up and almost drifted towards her, as she held his gaze.

Embracing him, her voice turned more sultry. "How much control do you have over what you're doing right now? Don't you know you shouldn't be giving in to me like that?" She stroked his cheek and cupped his jaw in her hand. Slowing down, she drew out her words, as if she was just savouring the sensations of each letter on her tongue. "Why does it feel so good to fall back into this pattern, just when you were free of it? Don't you remember the shame, the guilt? Or do all those feelings pale in comparison to my touch?" 

She traced a finger up his cheek, over his temple and then up over his forehead. He shuddered and his eyes fell shut. He sagged in her embrace and she hugged him tightly, hoping that would help keep him standing upright.

"And as you drift in my arms, so blissfully…" Her voice changed again, this time to an urgent whisper. "...it's not the same as it was before. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it gnaws at you. You know you shouldn't be doing this. And somewhere deep inside, some part of you is fighting. Struggling to shake off this enchantment. Feel what that's like. Which side of you will finally win? The heavy surrender of giving in to me? Or your better judgement?"

His eyelids moved as he frowned, and twitches travelled over his skin. A soft groan grew in his throat as he found his balance, no longer leaning into her embrace. 

She stroked his cheek again, admiring the little hints of the inner struggle. "You fight it because you remember how I used you. Because you know what a fool you were. It taints your adoration for me. Do you still want to be mine?"

He turned his head away from her, and started to let go of her, but he didn't seem to be sure yet whether he wanted to retreat from her or not. Nor was he ready to open his eyes.

With a deep breath of exhilaration, she pulled him in for a kiss, and she laid her hand on the bulge in his crotch to softly massage it. "Why does it feel so good to give in to something that's so bad for you?" She whispered in his ear.

For a few seconds, he kissed her back, and his hips moved in reaction to her hand. And then, with a moan, he finally found the strength to pull away. He turned his back to her and rubbed his face with his hands.

Octavia stayed where she was, crossing her arms as she watched him. "How many times would you relapse? Is there something that would keep pulling you back to me, no matter how much I would hurt you?"

He covered his mouth and shook his head. The way his shoulders hunched, worried her. So she cleared her throat and took on a colder, more professional tone. "Take a deep breath, Henry. Clear your mind. Just stand here, in my studio with me. Feel the carpet under your feet. Maybe you want to stretch? Take a moment? I'll get some more water." And she moved past him to pick up the pitcher and fill it in the corner.

He sank down on the chair and folded his hands in front of his face. "Thank you. I…" He sighed. "I just had a realisation about the character I am playing in that show."

She brought the water to the table and sat down. "Good. I'm not sure I have more to show you than this. I mean…" She leaned towards him. "I think we should stop and make sure there are no more effects for Henry after this."

"How do we do that?" He poured himself some water and looked at her.

"The process is similar to what we've already done." Octavia gave him a mischievous grin. "You open up and listen, and I blather at you."

"Blather…" He smiled. "Is that more jargon?"

"Oh yes!" She giggled. "Just wait till we get to the waffling, that's when things get really complicated."

Chuckling, he set the glass down. "Seriously, Octavia. Thank you. This has been amazing and insightful. I'm impressed by the marvellous things you can do as a hypnotist."

"As a hypnoDom." She corrected him. "Not many hypnotists would agree to work with you in this way. My work gives me some unique insights."

"Would you work with me again?" He asked.

She gave him a mysterious smile. "If you want. Think it over for a few weeks before you come again. But first, I want you to sit back and close your eyes." 


	4. Chapter 4

Only two weeks passed before Henry made another appointment, and though she would be happy to work with this beautiful man again, Octavia knew she needed to have a serious talk with him. So when he entered and started to take his shoes off, she beckoned him to come sit with her.

"I have a confession to make, Henry." She looked at him as he sat down. "I am uncomfortable being your consultant."

He frowned at her. "If I've done something to make you uncomfortable, I apologise sincerely. Please, tell me." His hands opened on his lap, showing his palms.

She took a deep breath, looking for the right words. "Remember the first time you were here? You were just a man, coming to me with a kinky fantasy, and I played it out with you, showing you a good time." She took a sip from her coffee, avoiding his eyes. "That's what I do with clients. You don't need an excuse to make an appointment with me. You just need to be honest about your wishes."

Embarrassed, he laughed and hung his head. "You took it so seriously… I should have… I really did learn a lot, about Geralt and Yennefer, and how he doomed himself to keep coming back to her."

"No doubt." She stared at her coffee and swirled it in the cup. "But did you learn why Henry keeps coming back to me?"

He blushed. The silence was laden with guilt.

She downed the coffee, even though he hadn't touched his cup yet. "You don't need to tell me, Henry. I've already shown you that you don't need to tell me everything in order for me to give you what you want. That's something I'm proud of. And I offer my clients absolute discretion because appointments with me are likely to be a guilty pleasure. Occasionally, I have a client to whom I am a dirty secret, but with regulars I want to be honest. And I want them to be honest with me."

With a sigh, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said breathlessly.

Shaking her head, she said: "I'm uncomfortable being a consultant because I want to do things to you, Henry. I'm not an actor. When I show you that I want you, that's not an act. When I turn into a cold bitch, that's because I feel like I need to stop myself from crossing a line that I'm not supposed to cross as a consultant. I want to be a hypnoDom again, and I want you to be the client I entertain."

He gave her a look of confusion and relief. "You're not turning me away?"

"Not if we can have a serious talk about your masochistic desires." There was compassion in her voice.

"I don't know what to say…" He took a deep breath. "I'm not even sure what masochism means…"

"Let me make it easier on you." She turned towards him and smiled. "Will you let me entertain you this session? I would lead you somewhere I think you'll enjoy, with the intent of exploring what you like, what you want. No more pretext."

With a nod, he replied: "Yes. Thank you, Octavia." He sighed with relief.

"Don't thank me yet." She winked at him. "I mean, what did you just agree to?"

He swallowed and stared at her.

Grinning mischievously, she said: "Let's start here." And she reached over the table to touch his forehead, to stroke up like she had done before. He cringed, but nothing happened, and he sat there with his eyes wide as she sat back down. 

"Well, isn't that reassuring?" She smiled.

"That worried me more than it should have." He laughed awkwardly.

"We can get started if you get changed." She rose to her feet, and when he did the same and took his shirt off, she took his chair and placed it in the middle of the studio. She stood there, looking at the chair, touching her chin in a thinking gesture.

Barefoot and wearing only his training slacks, Henry stepped up to her. "I'll admit, not knowing what you're planning makes me a little nervous."

"Sit down." She stepped aside, but when he did as she asked, she reached up to let her hands brush the naked skin of his chest and arms. "You're so beautiful, Henry," she murmured.

He blushed as he sat in the chair, folding his hands in his lap.

She stood, looming over him, letting her voice drop into a seductive tone. "Look into my eyes. That's the trope, isn't it? You stare deep into my eyes and something magical happens. Somehow, I drain your thoughts away, your will even, with my hypnotic gaze. Can you feel how your eyes are locked to mine? How you can no longer look away? What is that doing to you?"

His eyes grew wide, staring up at her. His shoulders and his legs sagged, he seemed paralysed. "I feel… excited… overwhelmed…" he uttered softly.

"Overwhelmed by my power? But this is not a fantasy show, I have no magical power over you. Do I?" She smiled, fixating him with her intense stare, speaking slowly. "I'm just giving you what you want. You want to be overpowered. You want to sink deeper and deeper into a helpless, mindless trance. That's why you feel this way now. You want to surrender to me. I'm just giving you what you want."

"I want to surrender…" he whispered, blushing. He sat completely still now, focused on her.

"You want to obey. So take a deep breath, and as you let it out, you can let go. Submit to this feeling of being overwhelmed." 

When he breathed out, it was like a deep sigh. His chest rose and fell beautifully. His hands slipped off his lap and hung limply by his sides. His facial expression softened into something more blank and open. 

A rush of arousal hit Octavia and made her breath hitch. Her eyes were drawn to the erection growing in his slacks, but she quickly turned them back to his face. "You must feel so helpless and weak and aroused now. Your body becoming too heavy to move. Your eyes becoming too heavy to keep open. Your cock becoming too hard to think."

His jaw sagged open and his hips bucked in the chair. She took it as a good sign and quickly continued in the same vein, her voice hot and urgent. "Too hard to think. The more weak and heavy you feel, the more aroused you become, the harder it becomes to think. Your cock is growing harder and harder as you become more helpless and mindless. As you fall deeper under my power, your cock grows harder. Too hard to think. Too hard to resist." 

The bulge in his slacks moved, straining against the fabric. Meanwhile, his head swayed involuntarily, his eyes drooping until they finally fell shut. Immediately, she moved in to touch his chest and to grope his erection. "That's it. Surrender. So aroused and hard now. Too hard to think. So helpless and weak now. Too weak to resist. Submit to my power."

A moan escaped his lips as his hips moved to grind against her hand. His neck craned and his head flopped back. She grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hungrily, leaning one knee on his lap to press down on his cock as she held his head in her hands. But he didn't kiss her back, his face was slack and his neck was too weak to hold his head up as soon as her hands let go of him. She backed away and stared at the way he hung limply on the chair, relishing the image.

"Take a deep breath," she ordered him. "Remember this feeling. Savour it and store it, now. Because it's starting to fade away. With every breath, you can feel that you're growing stronger, waking up from this strange dream, waking up to the reality that you're just sitting here in my studio, and I'm just standing here talking to you."

She watched him closely as he started to stir. His arms twitched and trembled before he managed to move them. When his head finally turned upright, he moved to rub his face, and then he shifted in the chair, leaning forward on his knees. "That was… Fuck…" he muttered under his breath. After a moment, he looked up at her. "Why did you stop?"

"Many reasons." She touched her lips, smiling at him. "But foremost, I wanted to check in. We are exploring what you like. So, did you like this?"

He blushed. His mouth opened and closed silently, at a loss for words.

"I'll take that as a yes." She chuckled. "Secondly, which part did you like the most? Because I want to go back and focus on that. Magnify and explore it. Tell me something that sticks with you. Even if it's just a word."

He leaned forward again, looking at the floor. "Weak." He licked his lips and found his voice. "I've always worked hard to be strong. Weakness is… an interesting feeling to explore."

"Reminds me of the first time you came here…" She thought back to that session, trying to recall details. "Do you want to struggle against it, like we did then?"

After a moment of deliberation, he shook his head without looking at her.

"If you don't struggle, then how do I show you that you are weak?" She asked. "Too weak to do what? Physically weak? Or weak-willed?"

He sat up and folded his hands in front of his mouth, looking for words.

"I know that look," she said with a sly smile. "You want both? I can figure out how to do both."

He gave her a toothy grin. "Thank you." Then he seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Can I ask something?"

"Always." She turned serious. "It's easy to tell me when you need me to know something. Whether it's a boundary or a bathroom break, you can always easily find a way to ask me."

He cleared his throat. "Can we make it less about the cock? I mean, I liked it, don't get me wrong, it was really…" He exhaled. "Really nice. But I would like the cock to be a bodypart that's just there, just another part of me. Not a focus."

"Thank you, Henry." She approached to lay her hand on his shoulder. "I will keep that in mind. What about the kissing? Should I stop kissing you?"

He blushed as he looked up at her. "I rather like the kissing."

"Oh good." She smiled, letting her eyes close for a moment. "When you're ready to continue, please put the chair away and stand here." Stepping aside, she gave him some space.

He got up and put the chair back in its original position. Before he returned to the open space, he looked at the floor and said: "This is going to involve dropping me again, isn't it?"

She grinned at him. "Of course. Don't pretend you don't like that."

With a deep breath, he advanced and stood in the place she had indicated, his knees loose and his hands open. "Right. I'm ready."

"Why do you sound so tense?" She walked up to him and looked up at him as she laid her hands on his bare chest. "I'm just going to talk to you. You're such a big, strong man. Nothing I say can change that. So what are you worried about?"

With a frown, he replied: "I'm worried that everything you say is a trap."

She spoke slowly and deliberately as she started to pace around him, running one hand over his shoulders as she circled around. "Are you worried that somehow the things I say will start to have an effect on you? That I can get under your skin, so to speak, and that my words will make you feel things simply by describing them to you? Is the thrilled anticipation you feel right now an effect of my words?"

He resisted the urge to keep looking at her, and stared ahead instead. Her hand travelling over his skin gave him shivers, and he clenched his hands to fists to help him stand still.

"And yet," There was that playful, seductive tone again. "You can already feel how you're focusing on my words, on what I'm doing to you. I am hypnotising you, like I've done before, and I will again. My words wash over you and you can't help but feel their effects. You can't wait to feel.... Weak." When she passed in front of him, her hand brushed up his throat and over his cheek and lips.

He momentarily closed his eyes, gasping softly. His hands unclenched and his chest rose and fell with his breath.

"You have my permission to feel weak, beautiful man. I will help you. Let my words help you feel. Weak." When she found herself behind him again, she stopped for a moment, and then turned around to circle him in the other direction, her other hand touching him now. "What does that word mean to you? Weak. Is it something you can feel in your body? Are your arms too heavy to move? Feel how they're weighing on you, like limp ballast, pulling you down, making your shoulders droop. Too weak to move your own arms."

He swallowed, letting his shoulders sag, blinking as he paid attention to these feelings in his body.

"Are you starting to feel weak? Do your knees feel weak? Like your body is too heavy to hold upright?" Again, she passed in front of him, caressing his cheek and his lips, and it made him shudder and close his eyes.

"If you're too weak to stand upright, then maybe your head is feeling heavy too. Your neck may feel just as heavy and rubbery as your arms do. Your eyes may be too heavy to keep open. And the funny thing is, it feels so good, doesn't it?" She stopped behind him again, her fingertips languidly drawing spirally shapes on the back of his neck.

His head drooped forward and he started to sway, his eyes closed now.

"You can know that I am here to help you experience this feeling. I'm making you more and more weak. I want you to feel so weak now, and I will keep you safe. You can just be here, in this moment, too weak to stand upright. Your neck feeling weak, your body so limp and heavy, your knees feeling weak." She moved in closer as she spoke to him, ready to guide him to the floor. And as soon as she mentioned his knees, they buckled and he collapsed.

She gently helped him turn and lay down on his back, and then sat down next to him. She took his wrist into her hands and lifted it off the floor. "Feel how limp your arm is. Feel how you're too weak to move, too weak to even open your eyes. Even the muscles in your face are too heavy to form any kind of facial expression. I've just dropped you." And she let his arm fall back down.

He gasped and his lips remained parted, as his eyelids moved without opening.

With her hand under the back of his head, she lifted it up to kiss him. Her lips brushed his as she said: "Too weak to even do the things you enjoy doing. Like kissing me back." After a few kisses, she gently laid his head down again. She rested her hand on his chest, to feel the rise and fall of his breath as she thought about her next move.

"Focus on my voice, Henry." She ordered in a clear tone. "Take a deep breath. It's so easy to become completely aware of your surroundings, of the carpet underneath you, of my hand on your skin. Of the light in the room. I want your head to wake up. Even as your body remains too heavy and too weak to move, your head can wake up. You can think, you can open your eyes, you can speak. You can tell me how you feel."

He blinked heavily and then looked up into her smiling face. "Hello," he said groggily. "I feel… Good." He blinked and sighed.

With a sly grin, she replied: "I can change that." She studied his reactions carefully.

"Change that?" His eyes rolled around in confusion.

"Try to move," she said. "Try to lift your hand off the floor."

He frowned and his hand twitched. "I can't."

"So if I were to do this…" and she scooted away from him, out of view. "You're too weak to even move so you can see me?"

He cringed but otherwise didn't move. "Yes."

"But just a few minutes ago, you were standing up. And you're usually so very strong. You work out and everything." She couldn't help but laugh. "And now you're too weak to even move your head?"

His shoulders trembled and he bit his lip.

She crawled back over to him and leaned her hands on his chest as she stared him down. "Think of the things I could do to you. You're too weak to stop me. Too weak to resist."

His eyes grew wide as she held his gaze. He blushed and his lips moved silently for a second. Then he breathlessly, almost inaudibly, uttered: "Yes, please."

She cupped his jaw in her hand. "Why would you say such a thing? Don't you know what's good for you?"

He let his eyes close, enjoying her touch.

"Have you become so weak now that you are too weak to resist anything I say?" She pushed to turn his head to one side, and then let go and watched him flop back down.

His eyes opened to look at her, and his lips moved wordlessly.

"Perhaps I was wrong…" She said in a dreamy tone, leading him to the next phase. "Perhaps it's not your body that's weak. Perhaps it's your mind. You are just too weak-willed to resist my words. No will of your own. You'll agree with anything I say."

Staring at her, he swallowed. His mouth opened in a look of anticipation.

She picked up his wrist again to lift his arm up, and she started to stroke up and down his forearm and elbow, massaging it into place. "You're just so submissive and obedient right now. There is nothing weak about your body. Take for example this arm. Strong and muscled and upright. And it's just going to stay upright, completely rigid and frozen in place. There." She let go and his arm remained suspended there.

A look of surprise came over him, and his head moved ever so slightly.

"Can you move it?" She asked.

He shivered. "How…?" The look of disbelief on his face was priceless.

"It's because you obey everything I say, my dear." She said in a reassuring tone. "You're too weak to resist, and complying feels so good, doesn't it?" She stroked his arm and guided it back down to the floor. She moved to cup his jaw again and cooed: "I said, doesn't it feel so good? Don't you feel pleasure, actual physical pleasure somewhere in your body, whenever you comply? Isn't that why you're too weak to resist me? Because it feels so good to obey?"

He shuddered and his eyes rolled up for a second.

She suddenly got to her feet and stretched. With a smile, she looked down on him. "Your mind is too weak to resist me anymore. So when I tell you, now, to stand up, you immediately obey, don't you?"

He sat up and rose to his feet, surprised by his own ability to do so, staring at her all the while.

She embraced him and stroked his back as she looked up into his eyes. "So, was your body too weak to stand upright, just a moment ago? Or did that just happen because your mind is too weak to resist my words? Your mind is getting too muddled to figure it out. Too weak to even think straight. And that feels so good, doesn't it?" She cuddled his chest.

Silently, he closed his eyes and smiled, just holding her.

When she was done hugging him, she let go of him and backed away. "Sit down on the chair, Henry." And she went to the corner to get two glasses of water.

He sat down, following her with his eyes, but otherwise silent and still.

As she returned to the table with the water, and sat down, she spoke in that clear tone again. "I'm going to make this very easy on you. I'm going to start to count to five, and when I reach five, you'll be completely awake again. Every number will help you return to reality and leave all these feelings behind. It might even help if you take a deep breath with each count, and then you can exhale all these weird feelings, and every time you breathe in, your mind can become clearer, and you become more and more like yourself again." And she counted, slowly, watching him carefully. "One. Two. Three. Four."

He blinked with every breath he took, his eyes becoming clearer, and his posture becoming more natural. 

"And five." She smiled at him. "Take a moment. Have some water." And she brought her own glass to her lips to drink.

He turned his head to stare at the floor where he had been lying moments ago, as if his memories of that moment were still lying there and he could study them. "That was amazing, Octavia." His voice was low and thoughtful.

"I'm glad you liked it." She smiled modestly. "That was just straight from the kinky hypnotist's handbook."

He shook head. "You made it amazing." And he reached for the water to wet his parched throat.

She inclined her head to give him a keen look. "If you want to book another session, you're going to have to message me first. Sit down and write about your wishes and your limits. Do some research online about what you'd like. That's what most clients do."

Henry nodded. "Thank you, Octavia."


	5. Chapter 5

Henry came into the studio dressed in a black suit and tie. He locked the door and sat down at the coffee table without even taking his shiny dress shoes off. With a smug grin, he looked over to the corner of the studio.

Octavia stood at the counter waiting on the coffee machine. She was dressed in a little red dress and fishnet stockings. "Be still my beating heart…" She mumbled as she stared at the pure white shirt under Henry's suit jacket. "I daresay I've never seen such a well-dressed client here."

"Is it too much?" He ran a hand through his hair.

She smiled and shook her head. "I love it!" 

As he waited, he crossed his legs and shifted on the chair. 

Octavia brought the coffee to the table and studied him as she sat down. "Are you nervous?"

He closed his eyes and nodded with an embarrassed smile. "This is quite possibly one of the scariest things I've ever done."

"Oh, come now! No helicopters, Henry!" She chuckled and sipped her coffee.

He burst out laughing. "I suppose you're right. This is a different kind of fear, though."

Octavia patted him on the leg. "I want you to feel safe with me. Always. Take a moment to think back to our previous session. Was that fun? Did I take good care of you?"

"You did." He stared into his coffee cup. "That's why I dare ask for this now."

"And you're quite sure you want me to undress you this time?" Octavia looked at his suit, the smooth fabric of the shirt, the silk tie, the slacks, all of it.

Henry nodded without looking her in the eye. "Yes please."

A quiet moment passed and then Octavia put down her empty cup. "How did you come up with this idea, if I may ask?"

"I eh… I read some fanfic… I had never thought of humiliation like that before..." He glanced at her for a fraction of a second and then gulped down his coffee. 

"Oh Henry…" She reached out to touch his hand. "I don't think it's a great idea to read fanfic about yourself. That's bound to make you uncomfortable."

He cleared his throat and straightened up. "I'm too self-conscious to talk about it anymore. We discussed everything in online chat, so you couldn't see me blush. What do you want to do for the preparation?"

Octavia waggled her eyebrows at him. "I want to drop you, of course."

He chuckled and shifted in the chair again. "Yes, of course. But how? What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing." Octavia leaned forward to focus all of her attention on him. "I want you to sit there, relax, and think of absolutely nothing."

He put both his feet on the floor and rested his hands in his lap. Closing his eyes, he listened intently and breathed quietly.

"Of course, thinking of nothing is not that easy." Her voice softened into that smooth hypnotist tone. "There's always something on your mind. Even if it's just the way you're sitting in the chair. The tightness of your suit. Anticipation, for that feeling of being deeply hypnotised that you enjoy so much. Or just your breathing. There's always something on your mind. But I asked you to think of absolutely nothing, and I know you want to do that. I think you'll find that it's actually easier to think of nothing if you cheat, just a little. You can think of the word 'nothing'. Nothing. And maybe it helps to repeat it to yourself a few times."

"Nothing." Henry muttered slowly under his breath, his eyes still closed. "Nothing. Nothing."

"That's a good exercise, isn't it?" Octavia watched him closely, blushing because even with all her experience, hypnotising someone was still exciting. "I'm sure you've done something similar in acting classes. Saying the same word over and over again until it loses all meaning, just for the sound of it. Just as an exercise in enunciation. Here's another word for you to practice. Blank."

"Blank." There was a long pause before his lips started to move again. "Blank." His voice faded into a whisper and he sat so very still. "Blank."

Octavia laid her hand on her chest, as if that would keep her heart from beating faster. It did help her keep her voice steady and soft. "The funny thing is that even though you are thinking absolutely nothing right now, and the words you are saying mean nothing more to you than sounds you make with your mouth, the meaning of the words is not lost." She slowed down for emphasis. "Because there are no other thoughts in your mind right now, these words can just reverberate in your empty mind until you feel them all over. Say this word. Deeper."

"Deeper." There was a slump in Henry's chest as he breathed out. "Deeper." His chin sagged down to his chest and his hands slipped off his lap and fell to his sides. "Deep…" His voice died away.

"Very good, Henry." She licked her lips and took a deep breath. "So deeply hypnotised right now. So empty and open to my words now. I want you to think of a feeling you undoubtedly know. That feeling when you're rehearsing a scene and you know it's your turn to speak, but for the life of you, you can't remember what you're supposed to say. That feeling. Exactly."

There were tiny movements in the muscles of his jaw and his eyelids, but otherwise he sat perfectly still.

Octavia spoke slowly and clearly, to make sure it was exactly as she had prepared it. "For today, while I am playing with you here, I want you to feel that exact confused, blank feeling whenever I ask you a question. No matter what the question is, you have no idea what the answer is. It's a little embarrassing to admit. It makes you doubt yourself. And every time it happens, that feeling of confusion about what you're supposed to say, what you're even supposed to be doing here, what this whole scene is about, that feeling just keeps on growing more overwhelming every time. It makes you meek. And shy. Perhaps even a little speechless. Every time I ask you a question. And now that you've internalised all of this, you don't need to consciously remember it. You were just repeating words as an exercise, after all. Say this word. Forget."

For a moment, his lips trembled and then he found a way to breathlessly say it. "Forget... Forget." The second time was easier, and the third was a little louder even. "Forget."

"It's funny how the word affects you so deeply, even though your mind is so empty. Say this one. Waking."

"Waking." Henry stirred, his head lifting up a little as he spoke. "Waking." His pronunciation became clearer as his voice grew louder. "Waking."

"You're doing so well. And now the last one. Thinking." She leaned forward as she watched him.

"Thinking." Henry started to frown as he said it. "Thinking."

Octavia clapped her hands and Henry jolted from the sudden noise. "That was a good exercise." She said in a cheerful tone as she stood up and picked up the coffee cups. "Now we can get started. Tell me if there's anything you need me to know right now."

He cleared his throat and gave her a dazed look. "I'm not sure I remember all of what we just did…"

With a mysterious smile, she turned to bring the coffee cups to the counter. "Very good, Henry. Get up so we can get started."

He laughed awkwardly as he paced the empty floor of the studio. "You know, I don't remember agreeing to any wrestling or dancing either. The suit may be too restrictive for that."

"It's a good thing you've agreed to remove the suit then." She drew up close to him, grinning impishly. She stared up at him and ran her hands over his jacket.

He took a deep breath. "Yes… Good…" He looked into her eyes but he hardly moved, leaning into her touch.

"Henry." She narrowed her eyes at him as she slowly wrapped his tie around her hand. "Do you remember agreeing to taking off the suit? Do you remember our plans for today?"

He blinked. His eyes moved around as he thought about it. He licked his lips and then hesitantly said: "I eh… I don't, actually."

"You should let me take the lead then."

He blushed and nodded. "It's strange… I could have sworn I knew what we had planned when I walked in here, but now…"

Octavia pulled him closer by the tie and hungrily kissed him. With her other hand, she grabbed his butt and pressed her hip against his crotch.

He embraced her almost in a reflex. He seemed surprised by all of this, but happily so. When the kisses finally ended and she pulled his tie loose, discarding it to the floor, he seemed to breathe more easily. With his hands still on her back, he groped for the zipper of her dress.

"What do you think you're doing?" 

Her stern tone startled him. He let go and backed up a step. "I… I'm sorry, I thought…" He stammered, blushing.

Her hands on her hips, Octavia gave him a piercing look. "You thought? I'm curious. What were you thinking?"

He swallowed and it made the collar of his white shirt move up and down. His mouth opened and closed but he didn't manage to say anything coherent.

"Nothing. That's what I thought." Octavia said with a grin. "You were thinking absolutely nothing."

Henry's eyes blinked heavily. He reached up to clutch his forehead for a moment and swayed on his feet.

Octavia's mind was racing. As beautiful as it was to see how her words affected him, she didn't want to drop him back into hypnotic trance. She would have to push the scene in the right direction.

"Take off your jacket." She sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms. "Just put it on the chair and stand here before me." 

She watched him move across the room, put the jacket down and come back. He was quick and amenable about it, as could be expected from someone who spent his working days doing exactly what the director said. Following orders seemed to make him more comfortable, he seemed less flustered and more at ease as he stood in front of her now.

"You're so very handsome." She smiled and when she saw how he quietly thanked her for the compliment, she continued: "You do know what to say now, don't you?"

Again, his eyes searched the room, looking for a hint. He wrung his hands and shifted on his feet, blushing again. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to…"

Octavia laid her hand on the bulge in his crotch. It made his breath hitch and he looked at her with large eyes. His mouth opened but he remained silent when she shook her head at him. 

"Very good, Henry." She dropped her voice to a low, sultry tone. "You know that I only want your obedience. That is all I need from you."

He closed his mouth and swallowed again as he lowered his eyes to the floor and put his hands behind his back.

Suddenly, she got up from the bed and grabbed him by the belt while groping him through his shirt with her other hand. She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and whispered: "Tell me that you obey me."

With a sharp intake of breath, he attempted to turn away, but her hand on his belt stopped him. He shuddered under her touch, his face reddening and his jaw tightening, but he said nothing.

She touched his chin to make him look into her eyes. "Is there perhaps something else you wish to say? Is there some reason you shouldn't acknowledge that you obey me?"

The confusion in his eyes was thick and tangible for a long moment. Something twitched in his pants, making the belt move in her hands. Then, he took a deep breath and said: "I obey you, Octavia."

"Good boy." She let go of his chin and started to open his belt. "I really enjoy hearing you admit how helpless you are right now. It seems to turn you on too."

He let out a breathy chuckle. "I do feel rather helpless."

She froze and gave him another piercing stare. "You are helpless."

Trapped in her gaze, his breath quickened. The collar of his shirt moved again as he tried to swallow. In a breathless whisper, he replied: "I am helpless."

With a swish and a thump, the belt and slacks fell down to his ankles. Releasing him from her gaze, she looked down to unbutton his shirt. "Undo your cufflinks for me, dear."

He fiddled for a moment with his hands behind his back and then his cufflinks fell on the floor with two tiny thuds. 

Moaning softly, she looked up at him again as she opened his shirt and let her hands roam over the skin of his chest. "You must have done a few love scenes on stage and for the camera in your time, Henry."

He lowered his eyes and his shoulders made a tiny shrug. He didn't want to say or do anything that would make her stop. 

Embracing him, she dug her fingers into the skin of his back as she pressed her body against his. The smooth fabric of her dress brushed against his chest and belly and the bulge in his underwear. Softly, she whispered in his ear: "Would you say that you are a skilled lover?"

Henry shuddered and opened his mouth, but whatever he wanted to say seemed to get stuck in his throat. A sweatdrop ran down his temple as his eyes searched the room for the answer to her question, and then he said in a small, soft voice: "I don't know."

Octavia opened the shirt and pulled it off while she pressed her body against his crotch and chest. She indulged in touching him for a moment. The sweat on his skin glistened in the soft lighting of her studio. Then she stepped away and sat down on the edge of the bed again.

"Do you know what you're supposed to do now?" She inclined her head as she looked up at him.

Nervous twitches jumped across his body, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. With baited breath, he finally turned his large eyes to look at her and shook his head.

She took her time to look at him standing there, his pants around his ankles, the erection straining against his underwear, the helpless slump in his shoulders and the fear in his eyes. He was such a big, strong man, and now he was reduced to this. She licked her lips and then found the cruel tone of voice to ask the final question: "Do you know anything about sex at all?"

His chest heaved as he tried to breathe. He bit his lip and there was a tremble in his jaw. He didn't dare to look away from her, but he also didn't dare utter an answer.

"Do you realise," Octavia watched him like a hawk, painfully aware that she would need to stop soon. "That you are standing here, in the studio of a sex worker, and you know nothing about sex at all?"

He lowered his eyes and his jaw tightened as he shook his head. "Superman…" He mumbled as he sank down to the floor to sit with his head in his hands.

Immediately, Octavia dragged the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. She made soft shushing sounds as she sat down beside him. "Everything is alright, Henry. Hush now. You were so brave. This was so beautiful. You did so well. Hush now." She cuddled him and rocked him in her arms. "Let me take care of you. I'll make everything right again."


	6. Chapter 6

Henry lay on his belly on the bed, his arms folded up under his head as he stared at the pieces of his suit and his shoes lying discarded on the floor of the studio. Next to his head, Octavia's feet wiggled in the net stockings she was wearing as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"Don't fall asleep." She smiled without looking at him.

He chuckled. "Why not? Does it cost extra?"

She pushed her foot up against his cheek. "It costs extra if you bore me."

"Oh, I'm terribly boring." He nuzzled her foot for a moment. "But I'm also prepared to pay any price to just lie here with you right now."

"Aww…" She sighed, he was so sweet. Then she lifted her head up to look at him. "Tell me something, Henry. Do questions still bother you? Is the hypnotic forgetfulness truly gone?"

Henry nodded. "There's like… a twinge somewhere. But it's mostly fine now." He buried his face in his arms. "I'm sorry I used my safeword."

"No!" Octavia sat up and stroked his back. "Never apologise for using your safeword. It's there for a reason and I'm glad you used it. Please always remember that."

"Thank you." He mumbled as he shifted to a more comfortable position.

She patted him on the buttock before laying back down. "Just don't bore me."

With another chuckle, he asked: "Am I here to entertain you then?"

"I suppose not…" She stretched and put her hands behind her head. "So what would you like to do now?"

He seemed to think about it for a moment before he replied. "I'd like to do one of your fantasies." He propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. "If that's not too forward."

"What do you mean?" She asked tentatively.

"You're a hypnoDom. You do this because you enjoy hypnosis in and of itself. I really don't know much about that. I have seen my share of mind control tropes in the media so I understand that the fantasy is actually quite common. What you've shown me here has been really hot. And I mean really hot." He smirked at her. "So… would you like to do something that's just really hot? To you?"

She snickered and shook her head. "Henry… The simple act of hypnotising you is hot. Taking a strong, handsome, intelligent man and reducing him to a mindless, compliant plaything is fucking hot. Every time I've hypnotised you was hot, so you're going to have to be more specific."

"Mindless, compliant plaything?" He repeated the words softly. "I had never looked at it like that. I think I might like that."

Octavia sat up again. "You don't have to 'make it up to me'." She made air quotes with her fingers. "It was a hot scene. And using your safeword was a good way to end it when you had enough."

"I'm not trying to make it up to you." He shrugged and shifted on the bed. "I guess I'm trying to say that I haven't had enough yet."

"Alright." Octavia scooted over to the edge of the bed, next to his arms and head. "Take a moment to put on some clothes if you want. And then we can reduce you to a mindless, compliant plaything." She waggled her eyebrows at him.

With a smile, he got up from the bed and gathered up all his clothes to put them on a chair. Then he looked down at himself, at the underwear he was wearing. "You're always encouraging me to put clothes on. Why is that?"

She spread her hands in a frank, open gesture. "I may be technically a sex worker, but I always want to remind you that actual sex is completely optional. This can all be as non-sexual as you want. I dislike the term "happy ending" because I and many others in my corner of the world don't need penis in vagina action in order to be happy. It's all optional."

"It's an option then?" He looked at her, and at the dress and stockings she was wearing.

She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling uncomfortable with where this was going. "Don't act like a sleazebag. We didn't discuss this option beforehand so we're not discussing it now."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet.

"Henry." She pointed at him. "I told you to stop. You stopped. It's all good now. You asked for a fantasy of mine, so put some clothes on and I'll hypnotise you."

"Yes, Octavia." He quickly started to put on his slacks.

She thought about what she wanted for a moment, and how to prod him in the right direction again. "Take a chair and put it in the middle of the room for me." She said. "I want you to sit."

Wearing only his black slacks but with bare feet and chest, he sat down on the chair and hugged himself. She walked over and stood in front of him, looming over him. He tentatively made eye-contact, perhaps still feeling bad about the dick move he made. But she smiled as she looked down at him.

"As I said, you are a strong, handsome and intelligent man." Her voice was smooth and seductive. "So I am going to enjoy this." She leaned in to kiss him on the lips.

He finally relaxed, leaning into her kiss and he reached up to touch her face. She grabbed his wrists and ended the kiss, standing up straight with his wrists in her hand. 

"Look me in the eye, Henry." She said softly. "For this to work, I need you to follow my lead. Focus on my eyes and what I'm saying to you, and let me take control of what's happening. Let your arms just be relaxed and heavy and limp in my hands." 

He stared up at her, forgetting to blink as she gently shook his arms and weighed them in her hands.

"I know your arms must be heavier than that." She smiled warmly as she fixed him with her gaze. "Focus. Relax your shoulders. I want to feel the heft of your muscles. I want to feel that when I eventually let go, your arms will drop down so heavy and limp that you feel this sinking, falling feeling come over you when it happens. So focus on that as you relax for me."

His shoulders sagged and his arms moved a little more freely as she shook them. Staring up at her, his jaw relaxed and his lips parted ever so slightly as a soft sigh escaped his lips. There was a change in his eyes, they widened, their pupils dilating.

"Very good," she cooed as she shook his arms from side to side. "You're doing exactly as I ask. Compliant. It's so easy to focus on me and allow me to take control. Your arms so heavy and limp now. Your eyes so heavy now. So ready to drop deep down into trance." And she let go of him.

His arms fell down and hung there beside the chair. The swing and the drop made him slump forward, his eyes closing and his chin resting on his chest. Octavia moved behind the chair to hold his shoulders and keep him sitting more or less upright, even though his head slumped forward.

She bent forward to bring her voice closer to his ear as she softly massaged his head with her fingers. "We've made that first step. Compliant. I want you to become aware of the feeling that you're not in control of anything your body does right now. Everything is too heavy, too lethargic, too deeply hypnotised for you to move or do anything of your own accord. And that feels nice doesn't it? No control, no responsibility. Just undergo what I'm doing to you. I'm making you a mindless, compliant plaything. I'll show you how compliant you are already. Sit up and open your eyes." She let go of him and went to stand in front of him again so she could look at him.

He shifted in the chair, less slumped now even though his arms were still hanging down by his sides. His head lifted up and his eyes opened but they were unfocused, staring into space.

"I'm sure you notice that even though your eyes are open, you're not actually awake right now." She watched him closely as she spoke to him, trying to observe all of the little signs that her words were affecting him. "And that's a fun feeling to lean into, isn't it? What are you then, if not awake? Deeply hypnotised? What does that mean? What does that feel like? I know what effect it has. It makes you compliant. Stretch your arms out in front of you."

As his arms rose up in the air until the line from his shoulders to his wrists and hand was almost horizontal, his hands and fingers still looked limp and numb. His eyes blinked a few times and seemed to roll up a little.

She took a deep breath, enjoying every second of this. "Do you feel how easily and automatically that happened? How compliant you are? That means we can start working on the next step. Mindless. You may feel like you're not thinking much as it is right now. Well, I'm going to make your head even more quiet. Let your arms drop down again."

His eyes rolled up and closed as his arms fell back down by his sides. There was a sigh and a sinking, sagging shift in his posture as his head lolled on his shoulders.

"It's hard for you to understand what is happening anymore. It's strange how that goes, it starts with focus, which means that your mind becomes clearer with less distractions. But then once you drop deeper into trance, it becomes harder to think, doesn't it? Like your arms, your thoughts have fallen down and they're just too heavy for you to direct. But when I speak, they react automatically to my words. You think only what I tell you to think. Mindless. Open your eyes and observe how mindless you feel."

His eyelids strained to open and then his bleary eyes stared ahead into nothing as his head continued to wobble and sway. His jaw was slack and his mouth hung open. Only one thing about him wasn't limp and slumped: the hard bulge in his pants.

Octavia grinned. "So are you my mindless, compliant plaything now? How does it feel? I think there's only one more thing missing…" She licked her lips trying to contain the arousal she felt seeing him like this. "When I tell you to speak, in a moment, you will find that your voice sounds strange. Foreign. Not like yourself. Because you are my mindless, compliant plaything. That droning, monotonous voice that automatically comes out of your mouth when I tell you to speak is the voice of my mindless, compliant plaything." She took a deep breath, tense with excitement. "Now tell me, what are you?"

His heavy-lidded eyes blinked and his lips twitched before he managed to speak slowly. "I am your mindless, compliant plaything." His voice was breathy, low and everything she said it would be.

Feeling all hot and bothered, Octavia sat down on his lap, straddling the bulge in his pants as she touched and stroked his chest. "I want you to remember this feeling, Henry. Commit this moment to memory in its entirety. Everything you feel right now, everything that's happening to you outside of your control. Say it again." And she kissed his cheek.

"I am your mindless, compliant plaything." He said it without any sort of reaction to her sudden closeness and touch.

"Every time you say it, you feel it becoming more true." She said between kisses in his neck. "Say it again."

"I am your mindless, compliant plaything." He droned as she sat on his lap making out with him. "I am your mindless, compliant plaything."

**Author's Note:**

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